37

E lizabeth did a second round of stretches after breaking her fast. Getting out of bed had required additional time this morning. Sometimes when she rushed, her body seized up to punish her. After verifying she had no current pain, she took extra care to ensure she began the day as limber and strong as possible.

The others were packed into a side parlor, crowding to look out of a trio of arrow-slit windows.

Stephen made room for her at once and took her hand in his. Or tried to. She had to pass her sword stick to the opposite hand first, in order to twine her fingers with his.

And then she looked out the window.

Reddington's army was still there. They'd camped out front all night. A proliferation of tents lined the edge of the forest. Soldiers milled about in army regimentals, cleaning weapons or eating hunks of bread.

Adrian shook his head. "I can't believe he's convinced this many people to live as though they were a real squadron."

"Or to believe Reddington a real general," added Kuni.

"His Grace, the emperor of entitlement," Jacob muttered.

"They know who and what he is," said Philippa. "It doesn't matter. Proximity to a viscount's son can be life-changing for those in the outer edges of the beau monde. Being an officer in Reddington's army gives cachet to those who couldn't afford to purchase rank in the real military."

"Besides, camping out is what those who reenact battles do," Elizabeth reminded them. She did not mention she'd once wished to be one of them. She'd believed joining their number would be visible proof that she was just as good as any man. That you didn't have to be one hundred percent able-bodied to have just as much value as anyone else.

"That's true," said Tommy. "It's clear weather, so to them it's all in good fun. A nice, wholesome activity for the whole family."

Adrian watched the men below. "They may have signed up for a lark, but are they truly prepared to wage actual battle?"

"They're loading a real cannon," Marjorie pointed out.

"And they've pulled it much closer than where it stood in yesterday's trial," Tommy said. "If they fire from this distance, the castle will take a direct hit."

Stephen pointed. "Here comes our nemesis now."

Reddington was once again in full uniform atop his white stallion. He turned his horse to face the castle. With a sword in hand and a euphoric expression, he looked the very picture of a general leading his troops into a battle in which victory was assured.

There were now two page boys armed with flower petals. To Reddington's left was a drummer boy, to his right, a trumpeter. Flanking them was a full marching band, interspersed with several flag bearers solemnly waving the distinctive red, white, and blue of the Union Jack.

"As if Reddington stands for the entire United Kingdom."

"As if he'll be standing at all after today," Elizabeth replied.

Stephen lowered his voice. "What percentage are you?"

"Eighty-five," she murmured back. It was the best she'd felt in years.

He squeezed her hand. "Then you're unstoppable."

"All that matters is stopping Redding—"

"Hear ye, hear ye," boomed from the front lines. Reddington once again held a speaking trumpet to his lips. "The battle royal shall begin in—"

The castle echoed with earsplitting pops as though a thousand bottles of champagne had opened one right after the other. A screeching sound followed, then a series of bright flashes, as though lightning were streaking out from the castle's towers. Feathers fell outside the windows like snow, and the faint scent of gunpowder and burnt honey mingled in the air.

All went silent.

"What," Jacob asked, "was that?"

"Oh, just my alarm," Stephen explained. "I set it to deploy when one hour remained before the scheduled confrontation."

Elizabeth pointed over her shoulder. "There's also an hourglass lowering in the Great Hall, if you prefer to watch the time run out."

"I don't think we will need to," Graham said dryly. "Reddington has numerous faults, but lack of punctuality does not appear to be one of them."

Now that the surprise of Stephen's alarm was over, the speaking trumpet once again rose to Reddington's lips. "The battle royal begins in one hour! If you wish to save your souls, hand over the castle posthaste. Otherwise, I shall take my due by force. Prepare to be besieged!"

"Save our souls?" Adrian repeated. "That's a little dramatic, isn't it?"

Marjorie snorted. "Everything Reddington does is dramatic."

"And now he's going to dramatically punch a hole through the castle wall with a cannon." Jacob peered out the window.

"What kind of frosted teapot destroys his own castle?" Kuni asked.

"A desperate one," Graham said. "He already sold tickets for the Waterloo reenactment he scheduled to take place on this property. His image will crumble if he cannot follow through as advertised. He has to save face with his soldiers, or they'll stop following him."

"His men adore reenactments," Marjorie added. "The more spectators, the more motivated his soldiers will be to fight to win."

"Reddington has nothing to lose by fighting," Jacob agreed. "The publicity gained from a siege, whether successful or not, will only bring more volunteers and more spectators to the main event—even if he must hold the reenactment on his adjacent land instead of at Castle Harbrook."

"Do you think he will retreat to his property?" Marjorie asked. "Regardless of who prevails in today's battle royal?"

" We prevail," Elizabeth answered. "We must defeat him so resoundingly, his remaining men would prefer to defect rather than expose themselves to further public humiliation."

Throwing knives appeared in Kuni's hands. "I'm ready. Are you?"

"We're all as ready as we can be," said Stephen. Then he told them, "Whispering walls are on all four sides, but you must be near the locations I showed you for your voice to carry to the turret."

He and the others had set up the murder room and arranged the other machines as traps around the perimeter of the castle.

Elizabeth and her siblings all nodded their understanding. "And your spy tubes?"

"In perfect working order. I checked the telescopes and mirrors less than an hour ago. I'll be able to monitor what's happening, and set off levers to deploy appropriate defensive and offensive measures as necessary."

"Defeating Reddington and his men is only the first step," Elizabeth reminded them all. "We need to ensure the well-being of the castle itself for the use and safety of all the children in Miss Oak's orphanage. Harbrook is going to be their home. It's up to us to protect it."

An eerie, plaintive howl ripped through the castle. The air filled with the scent of singed grass. What sounded like a thousand feet stomped at once on the ceiling overhead, followed by the din of hundreds of glass jars full of pebbles being shaken at once. Metal squeaked against metal seconds before an explosion of bright yellow dandelion petals and sunflower seeds poured down from the battlements like sheets of rain.

"Another alarm?" Jacob asked politely.

Stephen nodded. "The fifteen-minute signal. We're running out of time before the first shots are fired."

"Just one shot," said Elizabeth. "The muskets aren't loaded, and they only have the one cannon. It might eventually make a hole in the wall, but it should take several minutes to load up another ball. Of course, if the stone crumbles enough, soldiers with bayonets could crawl through and—"

"Elizabeth," Jacob said in warning.

"Nothing to worry about." Kuni brandished her daggers.

Elizabeth lifted her sword. "Welcome to the battle royal."